


Only You

by grandebatbae



Series: Cheaters [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Boys In Love, Cheating, Destroying notps with otps, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mistress, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sneaking Around, Tim Drake will top as long as I live, Timkon, dickdami, or lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandebatbae/pseuds/grandebatbae
Summary: Damian stares up at him, jade eyes sparkling with tears of either pleasure or guilt. His dark skin contrasts well against the white sheets, gleaming from the setting sun outside the window. Tim wants to bite marks to break its scarred perfection."Are we good people?"The question, the weakness in his voice, the weariness; it makes Tim's heart ache.With no other ideas, he leans down, pressing their chests together, and gives Damian a soft kiss.These lips, so much plumper than Kon's. Tim's skin, so much paler than Dick's.When he presses his face in the side of the teen's neck, he still doesn't have much of an answer."I don't know."He thrusts inside again, making the younger arch with an erotic whine. And, how can that be a sin?





	

**Author's Note:**

> TimKon and DickDami shippers, we are enemies.  
> Joke joke, but seriously.  
> These two  
> are  
> my  
> life.  
> Which is sad.  
> BUT I adore Dick Grayson with all of my soul and the last thing I want to do is hurt him (and Kon).
> 
> **I try to describe the waves that occur when natural waves hit cliffs and the water moves in the other direction, making the two waves crash. Wave crashes are common in Australia but I assume that's everywhere, so I hope it's clear??

“Eager?”

“Of course.”

It didn’t start this way.

They weren’t bad people.

They dedicated their lives to the protection of others, didn’t they? So they were _allowed_ to be this. Disgraceful and as indecent as it was, it was still ecstasy.

His body was similar to Kon’s, just slightly smaller, less harsh and much darker.

Did Damian internally compare him to Dick?

The thought is momentarily pushed from his mind when he presses the teen up against the wall beside his bedroom door, leaning down to meet his lips and tug at the younger’s shirt.

Damian lets out a soft groan as Tim slides his calloused palms up over his muscled stomach, sending fire and tingles over tanned skin.

"I missed you," Tim says, so it hurts him. Because two weeks at the Titan tower and no amount of midnights with Kon could equal five minutes with Damian, and it was infuriating.

The teen doesn't notice his chagrin. He just lets Tim lift him up, reach for the handle and yank the door open before slamming it shut and locking it. He feels Damian's fingers tighten in his hair.

"Careful, that was loud, Drake."

Tim scoffs, tossing the shorter on the bed, "No one is home to hear. He said ten minutes, right?"

Again, it's a jab, which Damian notices this time. He glares up at the older man as he removes the rest of his clothes, looming over Damian like a shadow that he wants to be both fucked and left alone by.

Conflicting.

It reminded him of waves. Feelings for Tim, his ethereal beauty and honest love drawing Damian in and trapping him in a vice that brings understanding paired with sympathy.

Those were waves. Big, curling, blue waves.

The waves hit a cliff, which in turn, pushes the water back out to sea in another wave.

Dick, caring and playful and sweet, Damian's first crush. They dated with something soft and gentle between them. Timid, but strong either way. The wave coming from the cliff.

The two waves move toward each other and hit in a loud, deafening crash that snaps Damian out of his reverie, causing him to surge up and meet Tim in an aggressive, hungry kiss.

Tim lets him, allows him to devour his mouth, as his warm hands glide down to hold Damian's hips. They stay there for a while circling gently, before moving to pinch his black boxer shorts.

Damian helps him tug them down fast. The next minute is a mess of sweaty hands, sharp nails, trails of drool and hot tongues, until finally they are both naked, Damian spread over the sheets with Tim's palm pressed beside his head.

He leans over to the nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. Neither of them said it at the time, but it's a different brand than what has been used before. The most expensive, top quality they could find.

Whether that's because it had to be different to the one they use in their  _'relationships',_ or because what felt right deserved the best, was not clear. Or, it was, and was being ignored.

Damian relaxes the legs he has wrapped around Tim.

 _Seven minutes,_ he thinks to himself. From the moment Dick had waved a cheerful goodbye, with plans to get something from his apartment in Gotham before he left again, Tim and Damian had been on each other.

Three minutes lead them here. Dick said he would take ten.

He groans softly, feeling Tim's slick fingers gently probing his entrance. Jade eyes meet cerulean, such love but  _prowess_ there that the words fall out too easily.

_"Fuck me."_

It's two he pushes in. It burns, because even with Dick here the past three days and no Tim for two weeks, he had avoided anything being  _in_ there.

Yet, he loves it.

"Kept tight, just for me? Or, not for me?"

He hears the implication but ignores the pain, instead arching his back as Tim presses in harder, straight into the spot Damian wants him to touch. He only brushes it, on purpose, grinning when Damian bites his lip at the slight torture.

Tim always finds it. He knows where it is. He knows Damian's body like...no other.

"Drake," he whispers, and it's supposed to be a warning and a demand, but comes out rather like a praise.

"It's okay," Tim hushes him, "We have six minutes."

With those words he adds a third finger, leaning over the tanned teen to lick a line up his neck. Their lips meet, Tim muffling Damian's mewls, moans and whimpers over the torturous assault.

He won't touch his prostate, preferring to circle it so that later the ecstasy of it being hammered would be all the more  _sweet._

Damian feels Tim's teeth against his pulse and he automatically release the hand he's holding, grasping Tim's soft, sweaty strands instead.

"D-Drake...he might see," he says, giving a weak tug. He imagineed himself angrily yanking Tim off and shouting, but the reality only contributes evidence to the truth; he is in heaven.

"Right," is all Tim says, drawing back to eye level with Damian. The younger can see the desire in his eyes to mark and claim, but he pretends it's not there.

The next and final brush of fingers around his prostate focuses him again. He watches Tim pull out his fingers, letting out a sigh at the empty feeling.

Quickly, the elder moves towards the nightstand again, and Damian knows what for. They have five minutes, and it's the perfect excuse for Damian to get something he has been thinking about.

"No," he says, clammy hand grasping Tim's wrist. Damian flushes even more than the feverish look he had, staring boldly up at Tim, "Just you."

_Just you,_ _no latex between us._ _Just you,_ _to release inside me._

"Are you su-"

"Yes."

Tim stares at him for a few seconds, before smirking softly, drawing back to stare down at Damian. The teen looks up at him, completely enticed by every inch of his body.

Excitement builds tenfold when Tim clasps the backs of Damian's knees, pushing them back against the younger's chest and pressing the breath out of him at the same time.

Damian's prepared hole glistens, almost  _winking_ at Tim, inviting him in.

Achingly slow, on purpose, (and Damian has a feeling he knows why) Tim slowly slides in. Breathless little pants can be heard from Damian, as he is finally filled for the first time in two weeks, by the only person who can draw such a breathless reaction.

That thought, that  _awful_ thought, makes him tighten around Tim as he is halfway in. The older groans, tossing his head back and shuddering out a breath.

"Relax, Dami." 

The boy stares up at him, jade eyes sparkling with tears of either pleasure or guilt. Tim watches through his euphoric gaze. His dark skin contrasts well against the white sheets, gleaming from the setting sun outside the window.

Tim wants to bite marks to break its scarred perfection even _more_ now.

"Are we good people?" 

The question, the weakness in his voice, the weariness; it makes Tim's heart ache. With no other ideas, he leans down, pressing their chests together, and gives Damian a soft kiss.

Those lips, so much plumper than Kon's. Tim's skin, so much paler than Dick's. When Tim presses his face in the side of the teen's neck, he still doesn't have much of an answer.

"I don't know."

He thrusts inside, fully, making the younger arch with an erotic whine. And, how can that be a sin?

"But I know you're perfect," he whispers, swiping his tongue over Damian's bright red ear before he eases up, allowing the teen to breathe properly.

So, they begin their dance.

Damian has never been quiet, but Tim particularly loves that at this time he is  _very_ vocal, every pant coming with a whine, or a grunt, or a whimper. All are beautiful sounds he could listen to on repeat.

The other pleasant noise, one Damian particularly enjoys because he can  _feel_ it to, is the squelching of Tim's bare cock in his ass, slick and mobile and wet.

"So...good...without," Damian grunts out, and Tim bites his lip and the simple implication.

This was their second time, without a condom. The first was their very first time, in the showers of the Batcave. Tim relays this to Damian and doesn't doubt that they're both picturing the same thing; Damian, bent against the wall and Tim aggressively pounding his hips from behind.

"I think about that a lot," he admits, keeping his steady rhythm that still neglects the teen's prostate. He keeps one hand pressing Damian's cock against his own stomach, every thrust making it slide. "Do you?"

Oh, Damian thinks about it. Thinks about it, when his _boyfriend_ is lying beside him...or on  _top_ of him.

"It's my favourite," he chokes, sounding frustrated, "Drake,  _please?"_

Tim smiles, "Nuh uh, what did we agree."

Damian doesn't even care,  _"Tim._ Please? Please go  _deeper._ "

The reaction is just another lustful smirk, and though he speeds up a bit, tempo of slapping skin and squelches and panting increasing, he doesn't go any deeper.

Damian knows what he wants.

"Thought about this," he whimpers, shutting his eyes and arching, baring his naked torso and neck to Tim's delight. "Every day, f-for the last -ngh, ah-...two weeks. I-I..."

Tim licks his lips, officially enticed.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm, yeah."

He leans down, folding Damian in half again. Finally,  _finally,_ he hits that spot direct on. Watching the teen jolt, gasp, arch with his eyes rolling back into his head all at once will forever be imprinted in Tim's brain.

"Tell me what you were thinking." 

Damian would blush, if his face weren't already feverish from their activity. His hands slide up Tim's chest, to his neck, pressing into the front.

_One minute._

"About the first time... A-And when we did it in the car... And in your office..." Tim hits him there again, drawing the same erotic reaction. It sends Damian on, so he starts babbling it all, "I made a list of all the positions we did, and which ones we should try ne-  _Tim! Ah! P-Please don't stop!"_

Finally he had begun a repeated assault, aiming for that spot every time. When Damian finally opens his eyes, the intensity in Tim's eyes is almost frightening.

"K-Keep talking," he chokes out.

Damian is crying in deep euphoria, barely forming coherence. Is he even speaking English?

"When we... At the gala... Safehouse... The plane...I'm always dreaming it...You..."

Tim slams his mouth into his, the sound of his hips brutally smashing into the backs of Damian's thighs like a drum beat to his favourite song. 

Everything is perfect. Fuck Dick, fuck  _Kon,_ this is perfection, beneath him. So beautiful and ethereal and-

_"Dami? Tim? I'm back! Where are you guys?"_

_"Fucking ass!"_ Tim growls lowly, so violently he nearly coughs. Immediately the perfect melody of squelching, thrusting, panting, moaning and creaking is all put to a halt. 

Tim is frozen, swears he can hear Dick coming up the stares.

"Tim..." Damian whispers. Pained, Tim's eyes slide from the door, back to his lover. "Tim... _keep going."_

Eyes wide, he stares down at Damian in shock. The teen still has a fucked-out, euphoric expression, but now there is a glint of determination in his eye.

"What?"

Damian leans up, as best he can, and lick up over Tim's lips.

That's all it takes.

Slower and more controlled, but deep and enough, the thrusts start back up again. Tim lowers himself to his elbows so that he and Damian are touching noses. There is  _no way_ his lover can breathe, Tim is fairly sure, but he doesn't protest.

If anything, it only encourages him.

Furthermore, the sound of Dick wandering around calling out to them seems to add to both of their arousals. They stare hard into each others eyes, intense and meaningful.

"Don't stop," Damian whispers, voice desperate and cry-like, "Don't ever stop."

"Never," Tim responds in the same manner. If he weren't so pent up he'd lift the teen and carry him to the door and fuck him against it, so if Dick came by he'd be  _so close._

It's there, balancing on a knife's edge. The coil in his stomach is of the most immense pressure, he's surprised he hasn't come yet. Damian is the same, every sign that he'd be reaching his peak soon there.

Slow and deep, the only thing holding back their orgasms is the intense desire to pre-long their joining.

But when Dick reaches this level of the house, when he's wandering down the corridor, barely-there words are the beginning of the final straw.

_"Only you...can come inside me..."_

Tim barely understands, but he does, and it sends his heart soaring.

_"Then take it. It's only yours."_

When heknocks on the door,it's  _everything._ The perfect final moment. He calls their names and they both erupt in a silent scream, as Tim floods Damian's body and Damian comes trapped between their hot, sweaty bodies.

Both are agape, staring at each other as they reach their pleasure. Automatically, still on that high, their open mouths collide, tongues passing all boundaries to just be  _connected_ in every way.

Drool slides out of the joining, down Damian's neck. His finger's are still bruising the base of Tim's neck. Tim's hands are still clutching the teen's head, shoulder's pressing his kneecaps up.

Even when Dick is walking away, they're still tangled, still kissing (they don't even consider it a kiss. It's an attempt to devour one another).

Everything was perfect.

 

The boys had a total of thirty seconds to fix their hair and scramble on their clothes. Skills to help, they appear out of Tim's room and sneak down the corridor, descending the steps with no noise.

Quietly, still hearing Dick calling out on the top floor, they reach the front door.

It's Tim who opens it up widely, loudly, before slamming it shut again.

"I win again, Drake!" Damian shouts automatically, and Tim smirks at him.

They had been 'racing' outside, starting from the back of the house. They didn't hear Dick come in, they had been to 'enraptured' by 'competing'.

That was the lie. It also explained their breathlessness and flushed faces.

"Were you two running against each other again?" Dick calls out, sounding far away.

It's that, which quickly prompts Tim to turn around and press Damian against the door, shoving his tongue down his throat. Damian smiles into the kiss, accepting it, taking in Tim's taste (not that he ever stopped tasting him).

They part in time to act like they had been running, as Dick comes into view. He's smiling, and it doesn't hurt Damian as much as it once did.

"Got it," he says, holding his backpack up. Damian can't even remember what he was going to get.

"Does that mean you're leaving now, beloved?" Damian asks. He see Tim look away out of the corner of his eye.

Dick gives his boyfriend a sympathetic look, "Yeah, Blüdhaven doesn't stay tame for too long, sorry Babybat."

The eldest of them walks over, stopping in front of Damian to lean down and kiss him. Damian goes along with it, pretending to not feel Tim's seed leaking out of his ass.

They hug, Damian managing to keep his disappointed (even though he was rather satisfied) exterior up.

"Later, Timmy," Dick says, ruffling the younger's hair on the way out. Tim gives him a smile that Damian sees as tight and impatient. "Stop growing. I don't want to be third tallest."

Tim gives him a genuine smile after that, and it makes Damian feel better.

With those words, Dick leaves, shutting the door behind him.

There is a few seconds of silence, the two boys just enjoying the peace, the ease, and the satisfaction.

Until, neither are satisfied.

Once again they are on each other like rabid animals, Tim hoisting Damian up, Damian's legs around his waist, lips on each other and hands holding one another close.

On the first floor landing, he has his fingers in him, thrusting them to create a that wonderful squelching noise again as his seed results too much lubricant.

Just as Tim is taking them back to his room, Damian draws away in his panting state, pressing his hands on Tim's chest. The older is worried for a moment that he wants all of it to stop.

"What's wrong?" He asks softly, fingers stopping.

Damian gives Tim's door a sheepish look, before glancing over to the other side of the floor.

"Can we...fuck on his bed?"

Tim takes a few seconds to process the request, because he can't have  _really_ just said that, right?

But when Damian stares at him with the lustrous look that reads  _'You know you want to',_ he knows he heard right.

"Hell yeah," he whispers against his lips, before beginning to walk over to his lover's boyfriend's door.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Author-chan is a monster.  
> Anyway, should I continue? Write more of their escapades? Let me know!


End file.
